


A work of art

by Taemin_jams



Series: Superm artschool au [1]
Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Artists, Awkward Mark Lee (NCT), Best Friends Kim Jongin | Kai & Lee Taemin, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten is a Good Friend, Crack, Dancer Kim Jongin | Kai, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Help, Insecure Mark Lee (NCT), M/M, Mark Lee (NCT) is Whipped, Mark is scared, School, Soft Kim Jongin | Kai, Strangers to Lovers, Sweet Kim Jongin | Kai, Taemin and Ten are dating, Tags Are Hard, Ten and Taemin are trying their best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:28:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29363292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taemin_jams/pseuds/Taemin_jams
Summary: An artist will always seek their own idea of perfection. Mark's idea of perfection was no one other than Kim Jongin.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Mark Lee (NCT)
Series: Superm artschool au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156964
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	A work of art

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for a friend, in order to cure their evening sadness.

Jongin had no idea how he had ended up on this side of the building, but it did not matter. Never had he felt so induced by a painting. It’s just a painting, he tried to tell himself, but he couldn’t help but feel connected to the masterpiece in front of him. 

Kim Jongin, majoring in dance. On one of his countless strolls, he had accidentally reached the extensive gallery on the art-side of the giant school building. Many final projects of the art students were displayed there. There was no reason for him to be here, other than that he was bored. But since he had arrived, he might as well look around.

Looking around had resulted in him feeling untalented and bad about himself. But his talent lied in dance. Jongin had nothing to complain about. He mindlessly wandered around for a little while when one particular painting caught his attention. 

Unlike many paintings decorating the white walls, this was not a piece where paint seemed to be thrown perfunctorily onto the canvas. It was elaborated flawlessly into the tiniest details Jongin could only notice when he came closer. 

It was a male dancer that was painted in excellent detail. A ballerino, to be specific. The darker background coalesced with the male figure in a way that made him stand out, but not so much that the dancer and the setting were as two different compositions. The dancer looked like he was floating mid-air, his legs stretched and arms curved elegantly. His posture was dynamic, and he was holding himself in such a chaste, dignified manner.

The complete piece was enticing to Jongin. He knew it was just semblance, yet he was almost convinced the figure on the canvas could come to life at any time. The sheer colours came together, and the touch of elegance and power was ubiquitous. 

All sorts of different emotions hit Jongin, and he couldn’t comprehend how a painting had his heart quivering like this. It was unbelievable. He had no clue what it was, but the artwork felt familiar. Or was it the dancer? 

Either way, Jongin was dying to know who the artist of this marvellous piece was. His eyes roamed all over the painting and the wall around, but a name was nowhere in sight. Jongin was flummoxed. Wasn’t it standard for an artist to sign their work, or at least make clear in any way that the artwork was theirs? 

Before he had the opportunity to look around and see if there were any art students or teachers around who could possibly tell him the name of the artist, his phone rang. He tapped on the green button with reluctance, only to have Taemin shouting in his ear with apparent umbrage. Jongin was running late for practice. 

He concluded that it would be the best to vamoose now. He quickly snapped a picture of the painting, took one more glance and spun around, hurrying his way back. 

“You’re lucky you didn’t get scolded,” Taemin told him after practice, as they entered the changing room. For there weren’t enough showers for all of their male classmates to shower at the same time, they settled down on the way-too-narrow-benches. 

Jongin shrugged. “I didn't come late on purpose. I got lost.”

The corner of Taemin’s mouth quirked upwards. “Nini, sometimes you’re in your head too much. You tend not to pay attention to your surroundings at all. Where did you land this time?”

“Art gallery,” replied Jongin. “Taeminnie, I saw the gorgeoust painting ever. Gorgeoust is not a word. I don’t care. You’ve got to see this.” He took out his phone to show the photo he snapped. Taemin cocked an eyebrow and released an impressed hum. “That’s some serious stuff. It’s wonderful, who made it? Maybe I know them. I know numerous art students.”

Only because your boyfriend is an art student, thought Jongin. Can’t relate. On both the boyfriend and art student part. “That’s the problem, I don’t know.”

“Huh,” said Taemin. “How do you not know? Wasn’t there like, a name tag or anything, or are you just stupid?”

“I’m not stupid,” Jongin sputtered. “I examined it over and over, but no, nothing. Not even a signature.”

“Well, that is odd,” said Taemin. “Tennie said that everyone always places a tag with their name and class on it. When companies are in search of an artist that suits their ideal, they come to the gallery to seek something to their liking. If they indeed find an artwork, they will know who to contact.”

“I want to contact the creator of this painting,” announced Jongin. 

“You could always go back after class and look for someone who might know,” recommended Taemin while taking off his shirt. “People are done showering, so you and your slow ass better hurry because I will not wait for you.”

Jongin rolled his eyes. “You always wait for me, anyway.”

Taemin only grinned and swung his towel over his shoulder as he made his way inside the showers. 

Honestly, having the warm water wash away the sweat after an intense practice session was one of the best feelings. But the usual satisfaction was now nowhere to be found. Jongin was thinking. 

“Hey, I can ask Ten if he knows who made it,” said Taemin and Jongin turned towards him with a delighted expression that was quick to turn into a displeased one as shampoo invaded his mouth the moment he parted his lips. He craved to punch that big, shit-eating grin Taemin wore. 

“I am relieved to know that my suffering serves as a source of your amusement. But can you do that for me? Ask Ten?” Jongin questioned expectantly.

“That painting really did something to you, did it?” Muttered Taemin. “But sure, I’ll ask him. Send me that picture you took later.”

“Yeah,” replied Jongin. “I will. Thanks, Taem, you’re the best.”

Taemin nodded. “So I’ve been told.”

~

“And?” Jongin inquired the second Taemin dropped down on the seat next to him. “Does Ten know?”

“Grant me a moment,” huffed Taemin. “Good morning to you too.”

“Sorry,” said Jongin sheepishly. “I just… really want to know.”

“I’m aware. And yes, apparently, Ten knows who the artist is. But - I’m really sorry, but Ten said the artist prefers to remain anonymous.”

“Oh.” Jongin was not sure what to do with this information. Saying that he was disappointed was an understatement, but what could he do? It was not like he could force the artist to reveal themself. 

Taemin looked like he felt genuinely sorry, and for Jongin hated being pitied, he forced himself to play the optimist he wasn’t. “Well, it can't be helped. Even if I cannot know about them, I hope to see more of their work.”

Taemin nodded. “I’ll ask Tennie to keep us updated.” And Jongin thought Taemin might really be the best friend in the universe. 

~

Mark gawked at Ten with wide eyes. “You’re telling me he saw it? Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing. I never intended for him to see it.”

Ten scowled. “But why? It would be the ideal way to confess to him.”

“Oh no, I really cannot do that. Please don’t tell me you told him that it’s me. I purposely didn’t sign that painting, for I knew it would be displayed in the exhibition. People will definitely notice, and he will hear of it, and I-”

“Mark,” said Ten lightly. “You’re worrying too much. Taeminnie said that Jongin was intrigued by your work and that he really wishes to know your name. Have you contemplated the possibility that he could like you back?”

Mark looked at him with a flushed face. “He doesn’t even know me.”

Ten smirked. “Then, make him get to know you.”

“How?” Mark groaned. “We have nothing in common. He’s older than me. He is known by everyone and I am just someone in the crowd, a nobody. He probably is not even into men. What if-”

“Taemin mentioned he practises alone around 7, every Friday.”

~

Mark silently thanked the school's architects for designing windows in practice room 6. He cautiously glanced inside, and his eyes were drawn immediately to the tall dancer whose face he knew a little too well. 

He discreetly observed every move the other made, fluid and precise. Mark could watch and get lost in the graceful dancing of Kim Jongin forever. He couldn’t help but take his sketchbook and pencils out of his bag and sketch. Try and capture the most striking movements. 

Mark didn’t know how it happened, but at some point, Jongin seemed to sense someone watching him intensely. Suddenly, he halted and turned towards the window, looking Mark directly in the eye. 

He had not been prepared for that. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks, and as quickly as he could, he scrambled his art tools together and ran. To where, he didn’t know. As far as possible from the attractive Kim Jongin. 

“Hey!” He heard that honey-dripping voice call out somewhere far behind him. “Wait!” But Mark wasn’t planning on waiting or going back at all. 

“Oh God,” he mumbled when he found himself at a safe distance. “Oh God, oh God, oh God. He must think that I’m a creep, a stalker. This is hopeless. I am hopeless.” When he eventually caught his breath, he tried to calm down, but his hands were still shaking. Finally, he came to the realisation that he had forgotten his sketchbook. Why does life hate me?

~

“I think I saw him!” Jongin enthusiastically exclaimed, and Taemin’s attention was spontaneously on him. 

“Your favourite artist? Where? How did you know it was him?” 

“Yesterday evening, at practice,” Jongin rants. “I was dancing but suddenly felt like someone was looking at me. I turned to the window and - We met eyes, but he ran away before I could say anything. He forgot his sketchbook. He was drawing me, Taeminnie. It was so cute!”

Taemin smiled widely, his eyes forming little crescents. For some reason, he seemed even happier than Jongin. “That’s adorable. Do you still have his sketchbook?”

Jongin nodded. “I do. I couldn’t just let it lay around. I want to give it back to him personally, so I can try and get to know him.”

“Smart,” said Taemin. “You might actually have more brain cells than I originally anticipated.”

“It’s lamentable I still don’t know his name,” said Jongin, neglecting Taemin’s remark. “It’d be so much easier to find him.”

“True,” Taemin agreed. “But I’m pretty sure that if you keep going like this, you’ll know in no time.”

And Jongin could only hope that Taemin’s words were true. Because what if this boy had decided to withhold from him even more now? His search would become pretty much impossible. But Jongin was resolute to learn more about the mysterious artist whose wide eyes and red cheeks were really cute. 

~

“Taemin says Jongin isn’t going to stop until he knows who you are,” Ten told him, and Mark just wanted to disappear. Why didn’t earth just swallow him right then and there? 

“Why don’t you just ‘expose’ yourself already?” asked Ten. “He is undoubtedly interested in you. Someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t hunt down the entire school to obtain the name of one particular person.”

“You have no idea how embarrassed I am,” mumbled Mark. “Especially after running away like that. I even forgot my sketchbook, so he definitely knows.”

“That gives him another motivation to search for you,” Ten reasoned. 

“You’re not helping.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Ten smiled. 

Mark sighed. “Why does my best friend have to be dating my crush's best friend? I suspect that you know several things that I don’t.”

“Mark, believe me, the only one who doesn’t know anything is Jongin.”

“So Taemin knows too. Great. Another reason to be embarrassed.”

“He’s not judging. He thinks it’s cute.”

“He thought your hellhound illustration was cute too. I do not trust his judgement.”

Ten exhaled deeply. “You will really become dejected if you keep this up. Mark Lee, I never knew I’d say this to you but please grow some balls and just allow Jongin to learn about you. You’ve finally gotten his attention, you shouldn’t waste it.”

“I’m terrified.”

“It’s going to be alright. If not, I’m here for you.”

~

“What do you mean, you might like him?” simpered Taemin. “You’re so whipped.”

“Shut up,” muttered Jongin. “I just… I’m not sure if I like him that way. I mean, I only saw him once. All I know is that he’s really fucking adorable.”

“Fair point,” said Taemin. “Alright then. What’s the first word that comes up when you think about me?”

“Partner.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re my dance partner for the closing performance next week.”

Taemin drew a long sigh. “You’re terrible. Anyways, what is the first word that comes up when you think about this artist?”

Jongin seemed to think for a bit. “I’m not sure. But I think it would be… cute. Or mysterious because I don’t know anything about him.”

Taemin nodded thoughtfully. “So in order to know whether you truly like him or not, you will have to get to know him more.” 

“That’s what I’ve been saying the whole time. You didn’t get me any further.”

“You have at least a tiny crush on him.”

Jongin remained silent. He hated it every time Taemin was right, but this time he really had to acknowledge it. Jongin liked a person whose name he didn’t even know. 

The performance they have been rehearsing over and over also came closer. Jongin’s thoughts had been all over the place, and Taemin had to shake him out of it several times. But all Jongin could think about was the fact that the dancer in his favourite painting from his favourite artist was him. 

It took him a while to figure out, but when it finally dawned on him, it was a euphoric moment. The artist must relish his dancing a lot, seeing as he painted him like that, and even watched him practise to sketch. One could think of it as creepy, but Jongin was honoured. 

It only resulted in him wanting to meet the boy even more. It was frustrating, really. Jongin hasn’t seen him since their ‘encounter’ by the practice room, and it felt like the artist was avoiding him, which was a dreadful thought. Was he afraid of Jongin?

However, he couldn’t concentrate on his confusing crush continuously, and Taemin would probably be pissed off if he proceeded to muse. He finally succeeded in focusing on dancing for a while and only hoped that his not-so-secret admirer would come and see their performance. 

~

“You’re going, right?” Ten asked with raised eyebrows, and Mark shook his head frantically. “I really can’t do that. I don’t want to risk facing him again.”

“If you’re not going, I’m not going,” Ten states.

“But Taemin- Oh I see.” And Mark apprehended that he didn’t have another choice. If Ten wouldn’t go, Taemin would be immensely disappointed, and Mark couldn’t stand that his scared self would be the cause of it. “Fine.”

“Good.” Ten placed the crate with brushes on Mark’s table. “Now go paint your dancer, so you will finally stop overthinking.”

And that was frankly a good idea. 

~

“Tennie is here, and - oh.” Taemin shot Jongin a look, and Jongin promptly perked up. “Is he here?” A simple nod was enough for stressed Jongin to become a very happy Jongin. 

“Don’t get too distracted,” said Taemin mischievously. Jongin could not see his face from this angle, but he could hear that nasty smirk on his face. 

“Fuck off,” replied Jongin half-heartedly, and Taemin just laughed at his misery. What best friends are for. 

His prevailing nervousness faded the instant the music he has heard far too frequently in the past few weeks started playing. Even the thought of his nameless crush watching him from the crowd couldn’t break his concentration. 

“Become one with the music,” Taemin had said. “Let the music flow through your body like it’s your blood.” Jongin loved the mellifluous feeling. “Your movements should be graceful, looking like you’re not putting much physical effort into it at all. Yet you appear powerful.” Jongin never knew how to describe it, but Taemin had a way with words. 

Dancing is a form of art. Art is expressing yourself through visuals or a particular perception. The mystery artist expressed himself through painting, and Jongin liked to express himself through dance. 

“People are different, so it is only natural for everyone to have their own way of expressing their emotions and representing themselves.”

No matter how much he enjoyed himself, Jongin felt relief ripple over him once he was backstage. Taemin was next to him, giving him some sort of side hug as a complimenting gesture. “The performance will take a while to end. Let's go and find Ten and your crush. If you're lucky, you will have the opportunity to talk to him while I pay attention to Ten."

Jongin smiled a broad one. “Thanks, Taem. I just hope he won’t run away again.”

“Not inevitable, taking that horrid nose of yours into consideration, I’d be scared too,” was the response. Jongin might or might not have pushed Taemin into a clothing rack.

~

Mark had been both terrified and thrilled to see Jongin dance on stage. He had seen him dance before, obviously, for Jongin had been his main inspiration for the past several months. But all that was ere Jongin knew about his existence. 

He knew it was close to impossible, but he yet feared Jongin would see him in the crowd. That he would accidentally stumble upon him. It was a fear that became a reality shortly after Jongin's and Taemin’s performance ended.

Ten's face brightened, and nervousness began to consume him as Mark turned around. Jongin and Taemin were right behind them. 

"Tennie," he heard Taemin exclaim over the loud music from a girl's performance. Ten pulled Taemin into a hug, mumbling inaudible words into his ear, and Mark was left defenseless. 

He slowly looked up to see Kim Jongin look at him. Mark carefully examined the defined features of his face, seeking for anger, confusion, or disgust. There was none. Jongin studied him from head to toe with soft, curious eyes.

His presence was overwhelming up close. Mark speculated he could suffocate from nervousness any moment. The cage deep inside his heart, where he had locked away his feelings, was opened suddenly, and Mark had not been ready. 

"You," Jongin called gently. "Will you... will you tell me your name? Please?" He looked pleading, almost, and Mark could drown in those eyes. 

"Mark." He didn't trust his voice enough to say any more.

"Mark," Jongin breathed out as if testing how it rolled off the tongue. "I've wanted to meet you for quite some time."

"I'm so sorry, I- I'm not... I didn't mean-"

"There are so many things I want to tell you. Your painting is stunning, I'd love to see more. Also, you have no idea how honoured I am. You're a brilliant artist," Jongin beamed, leaving Mark flustered. 

He had been prepared for upset words and criticising comments, not compliments. Jongin's tender gaze on him, filled with admiration, had his knees go weak. The little door of that cage in his heart that he had left barely open was slammed wide open, unleashing a wave of feelings he wasn't sure he could handle. 

"I... he stammered. "That means a lot, coming from you. I... thank you." He had trouble taking in Jongin's words, Jongin's relaxed posture, and Jongin himself. 

Jongin blinked. "Of course. I meant every single word I said. Mark, can I have your number? I would really like to get to know you better."

"Uh, I don't see why not," Mark replied. Why did he have to be so awkward? Jongin didn't seem to mind, however, or perhaps he didn't even notice. 

It was weird to think that a moment ago, Mark wouldn't dare to consider being able to hold eye-contact with the other, but here he was. With Jongin's phone in his trembling hands, adding his number to the contacts. 

"Thank you!" Jongin smiled. "Are you free this weekend, Mark?" 

Mark needed a moment to process what Jongin was asking. Having Jongin utter his name in such an amicable manner had his mind going places.

"I guess I'm free on Saturday," he said when his mind soothed, adequate for his brain to be capable of forming proper sentences again.

"Great! Shall I text you a location?"

Mark bit his lip harshly to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He nodded, feeling a little uncoordinated. By every word Jongin spoke, more and more butterflies fluttered in his stomach. 

"That's settled then," said Jongin, eyes still sparkling with adoration, and he lifted his hand to touch Mark's cheek. Mark tried his best not to flinch at the unexpected move. Jongin hesitated in the end, his hand stilling in the air before meeting Mark's cheek. 

Mark didn't know where the sudden confidence came from, but he reached for Jongin's hand, touching it lightly. When Jongin understood that it was not to push him away, he carefully proceeded. 

Mark tried not to whimper as Jongin's index finger traced his jawline. "You're really cute," the dancer mumbled before dropping his hand. He grinned suggestively at Mark, challenging, almost. 

"Our little meet-up next weekend," spoke Jongin, his lips forming a sly smile. "Consider it a date."


End file.
